By Sarah Schrock
Cognitive dissonance is the state of being at odds with your own behavior, when your thoughts and beliefs lead to discomfort and internal conflict because your actions do otherwise. This is what happens each year to me during the Girl Scouts’ cookie sale. I know those cookies are the last things I need to buy. I know that if I look at the ingredients loaded with sugars and preservatives, I shouldn’t do it. I know on my way out I will buy a box or two, despite my better judgment. Those little smiles and sweet voices, the memory of my mom bringing home a box or two in my childhood wins, every year.
If you start asking around, the Girl Scouts cookie culture is widespread. People have adopted customs around this annual event. Apparently there is a following of people who freeze their Thin Mints, eat them cold or put them on ice cream. I have never adopted any routines or rituals with the cookies — they don’t last that long. I can imagine a s’mores concoction with a Tagalong or maybe some kind of Samoas milkshake. In any case, the sale is ending so the temptation is over, but I hope those little smiles made some cash and they will have some fun with the funds they raised.
Easter Sunday (March 27) is early this year and like most Christian celebrations, the secular pagan adaptation tempts our sweet tooth too. There’s an entire grocery store aisle dedicated to it. Last year I ran into a local electrician in search for his favorite Easter treat. To protect his privacy, I will only say his last name reminds me of a mysterious sea mammal said to have been mistaken for mermaids or unicorns because of the long horn on its head. Said electrician was combing the Easter display racks at Hank’s Harvest Foods in search of small, hard-coated, covered chocolate eggs with the little speckled colors. I knew exactly what he wanted, but we couldn’t find any.
The annual Twisp Valley Grange Easter egg hunt has been postponed to Saturday, April 23, at Twisp City Park due to the snowpack at Pearrygin Lake State Park. I understand the delay — it requires a wide-open field. The event is less of a hunt than an egg scramble. The plastic eggs, thousands of them, are laid across the lawn and partitioned into age groups for hunters of differing abilities. The toddler field is a sea of bright colors with eggs packed in tight for easy picking.
Yet despite the density of eggs, there’s always one little tot who runs over 50 eggs to grab the one egg he fixated on in the distance. By the time he reaches his destination, another kid races up and snatches up the egg right from under him. This leads to tears, and punches might get thrown.
If you have ever tried reasoning with a toddler, it’s futile. So the exasperated parent tries to distract the upset child by showing him all the other hundreds of eggs still in the field. It doesn’t matter, he wanted that one and the other kid is long gone now. And so it goes — Mom and Dad follow the screaming child around the field picking up eggs and putting them in their little angel’s basket, hoping the tantrum will subside. It will, as it always does.
While there’s a fair share of candies in the eggs, thankfully the majority of eggs are filled with stickers, small toys or temporary tattoos. The hunt begins at 11:45 a.m., followed by a barbecue, and photos with the Easter Bunny thanks to the Grange, Ulrich’s Pharmacy and the Winthrop Kiwanis.
